The Enforcer
by Pacacapa
Summary: In an alternate universe, Eliot never left Moreau. When the Italian pits a shorthanded Team Leverage against Moreau, they come face to face with what should have been. AU. Minor supernatural themes. Major spoilers for The Big Bang Job and The San Lorenzo Job, and anything else up until that point is fair game as well.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Enforcer

Author: Pacacapa

Rating: T

Genre: Drama, suspense

Length: ~10,800

Summary: In an alternate universe, Eliot never left Moreau. When the Italian pits a shorthanded Team Leverage against Moreau, they come face to face with what should have been. AU. Minor supernatural themes. Major spoilers for The Big Bang Job and The San Lorenzo Job, and anything else up until that point is fair game as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage or any of its characters; I'm just borrowing them for fun and no profit.

AN: This is quite outside what I normally write, given that I'm a stickler for canon. But I was inspired to write evil Eliot, though, so… we'll see how it goes. It turned out quite a bit darker than my other stories, thus the higher rating.

This was quite an experiment for me, so any and all comments, suggestions, and constructive criticisms are welcome. Seriously, don't worry about hurting my feelings. I want to know what you really think.

* * *

On the table beside Eliot, a phone rang. He flicked it open and growled, "Spencer."

The voice on the other end was high-pitched and frantic. "Mr. Spencer, my name is Victor Dubenich and I'm offering you $300,000 to help me retrieve…"

Before the man could finish, Eliot silenced him with a curt "no" and tossed the phone back onto the table. He didn't need outside work. He liked the work he had; Damien was a good boss who took care of him and gave him a lot of free reign. Besides, he paid well, and the reputation Eliot had gained working for him… well, that would ensure he never lacked for anything.

Yes, Eliot Spencer saw no reason to leave the service of Damien Moreau.

* * *

 _Two Years Later_

"Run it, Hardison." Nate let the words precede him as he descended the steps from his room to his apartment-turned-office. Sophie and Parker sat at the bar in front of the screens, and Hardison was leaning on the other side.

Hardison didn't put the info up on the screen like he had requested. Sophie turned to study him carefully before speaking. "You saw that Italian woman last night, didn't you?"

Avoiding eye contact, Nate nodded. "Making sure we're still keeping up with this Moreau business."

"Is that why we're going after this particular target?" Sophie was speaking diplomatically, but Hardison was a bit more blunt.

"This is crazy, man. Going after one of Moreau's top lieutenants, who is guarded by a literal small army of muscle? It's suicide. We're con men, not hitters. What are we supposed to do if things go wrong?"

Sophie picked up again. "Can't we be more effective if we go after - say - _anyone_ that doesn't require us going toe-to-toe with a bunch of armed and dangerous thugs? Because I don't know if you noticed, but none of us are exactly equipped to handle a fight."

Nate let his eyes linger on his three other teammates in turn. Yes, he had in fact noticed that very unpleasant detail. Unfortunately, the Italian hadn't left him much of a choice. He had to pull this off, and that required a really good plan.

Thankfully, Nate was good with plans.

"We're going after Ross Farrell and that's that. Now, Hardison, put it up on the screen so I can explain how we're going to pull it off.

With a meaningful glance toward Sophie, the hacker turned to face the screen and punched a button on his remote a little harder than necessary. "This man is Ross Farrell, who is responsible for investing and managing large portions of Moreau's funds. He also does a good deal of laundering, and generally keeps the money liquid and legitimate. He's a critical part of Moreau's infrastructure. Taking him out will do a lot of damage to the man in charge." Hardison faced the team again. "It's still suicide."

Nate gestured toward the screen. "Keep going."

"Tonight he's attending a fancy gala hosted by some wealthy friends of his."

Nate took over. "Sophie and I are going to attend that party. I'm going as a successful entrepreneur who is selling off his small business to a big corporation. You, Sophie, will play a prospective buyer who wants to get in before the buyout, when the value will skyrocket, but can't because the asking price is too high."

"You're asking me to get him to invest in something completely intangible, for no real good reason?" She glared at him. "This is a weak plan, Nate. And how much money are we talking about?"

"Uh, Hardison, I need you to dig around in his financials and see how much we need to take in order to significantly hurt him. And Parker, I need you to break into his house during the gala and plant evidence that will lead the police right to his illegal activities."

Shaking his head, Hardison turned back to face the group. "No, man, I'm putting my foot down here. You can't send her into that building - it's a death trap."

"She's good at what she does; she'll be fine."

Glaring, Hardison said, "And what if Farrell isn't interested in your company? He's doing very well as it is."

"Sophie can work her magic, and besides, why is this so much worse than before?"

"You're not controlling the mark, alright? We're operating without a safety net - somebody's gonna get hurt."

Nate opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short as the black man in front of him morphed into someone else - a vaguely familiar long-haired man that he both knew and didn't. They were in this very apartment, with five people gathered… not four. The man made the same complaint Hardison was making now now, warning Nate not to push the team too far.

Shaking his head to clear the vision, Nate refocused on Hardison in front of him. "Trust me. It'll work."

While Hardison held his gaze, Sophie and Parker exchanged a meaningful look. Finally, Parker was the first to nod. "I can do it." Sophie gave him a long-suffering look to signify her agreement, and finally Hardison gave in.

"What do you need me to find?"

A/N: The vision Nate had was from #403, "The Fifteen Minutes Job," about 30 minutes in, when Eliot is griping about Nate being so reckless.

* * *

As Nate tightened his tie and straightened his suit in his bathroom, Sophie slid into view in the mirror. "You had another vision, didn't you?"

Nate's fingers slowed, and he gave a mirthless smile. "They're more and more frequent as time goes on."

"Still don't want to share, huh?"

Nate dropped his smile and turned to face her. "No." No need to burden her with the inescapable sense of _something missing_ that he put up with day in and day out. Why did this long-haired man keep coming to his consciousness? What did he have to do with this little family he had formed? Nate didn't even know his name. Unfortunately, that didn't keep the déjà vu from invading his mind at seemingly random intervals.

Sophie opened her mouth, presumably to continue her interrogation, so Nate interrupted. "Try to stay close to the mark, yeah? We're really going to need you to soften him up if we are going to have any shot at this."

Frowning, she crossed her arms and leaned on the door frame. "You're throwing us into the hardest con we've ever tried, recklessly endangering all of us, and you won't even tell us why. Won't tell _me_ why."

"Well, it's important, okay?" He pushed past her, fully intending to let that be the end of the argument.

She wasn't having it. "Nate, listen to me. You're falling apart, and dragging us down with you."

Nate just ignored her. He had heard this speech before, too many times to count, but there was not stopping Sophie once she got worked up like this.

"Don't just walk away from me! Listen to me, Nate, because you are right on the brink of losing your whole team."

That stopped him. "What do you want from me?" He faced her sharply. "We need to get this guy, and I don't have any other ideas for how to pull it off. Do you?"

She simply glared.

"That's what I thought." With that, he turned his back again and left without a word, knowing she would follow. She always did.

* * *

At the gala, Sophie watched Nate across the room. He was boisterously chatting with everyone who would listen to him, but she was in no mood for his energy. She was too angry to care right now.

Letting her real anger fuel her acting, she purposefully stormed toward a table of drinks - and coincidentally her mark, who stood by himself at the moment. As she approached, Sophie sighed angrily and quickly downed the first glass of wine she came across. "Can you believe what that man did to me?" She was ranting to no one in particular, but carefully aiming it toward Farrell. "Arrogant jerk is going to cost me months of work. Months!"

Finally, Farrell took the bait, sidling up to her and smirking. "What kind of idiot would blow off a lady like you?"

Innocently running her hand over his arm, Sophie rolled her eyes and smiled a little. She was going to need it to play this right. "The kind who is selling his company and cutting me out. I've been working on buying a significant number of its shares to make an enormous profit when the buyout goes through, but he raised the prices beyond what I can afford. I can only imagine that means the returns will be astronomical." She scoffed. "But only someone with a lot of wealth already could get in on it." Leaving her hand strategically placed on his arm, Sophie tried to play on his pride. Hopefully that would be enough to set him against Nate.

"How much is he asking?"

Hardison's voice in her ear distracted her, but she kept her influence on Farrell. _"He's got $70 million between his personal funds and Moreau's."_

Rolling her eyes again, Sophie shifted against the table and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Farrell straightened and jerked away from her. Nervous, she glanced around for what might have spooked him, but saw nothing.

Farrell gave her a tight smile and a small bow. "I'm sorry, miss, but I have to be going. Wonderful to meet you." With that, he turned and walked briskly away.

Dumbfounded, Sophie simply stared after him. "Hardison, what was that? Our mark just… left. I was influencing him, everything was going well, I had him on the hook, and then he left! What caused him to flee like that?"

His voice was back in her ear. _"I don't… I don't know. I can't find anything that should have set him off. Parker? Did you set off any alarms?"_

"Not it!" The whisper was barely audible over Nate's chatting. "But I'm having no luck getting in either, thanks to all the guards. Give me electronic surveillance and I'm a ghost, but real people? Ugh."

Sophie was so distracted by the conversation that she didn't even hear someone coming up behind her until he greeted her. "Excuse me, ma'am. Mind if I grab a glass from behind you?"

Sophie whirled around, blushing. She had forgotten she was blocking the refreshment table. "Of course." Sliding out of the way, she cocked her head a little as a long-haired gentleman with a charming smile reached past her to lift a glass of wine.

He lifted his glass in a little toast. "Aaron Coburn. You enjoying the party?"

Carefully hiding the sinking feeling he wasn't going away any time soon, Sophie smiled gently. "It's lovely." Hopefully her curt answer and lack of eye contact would indicate her disinterest.

Instead, he just leaned closer and reached around her back to set the wine on the table. He was so close his hair touched her neck, and she tensed. A shiver ran through her body and she felt her heart rate increasing.

He drew back, only slightly, before leaning in again and brushing her hair behind her ear. At that, she jerked away with an indignant gasp. He just smiled a little and held his hands up. Every instinct screamed at Sophie as he approached again, more slowly this time, but she held her ground. Surely he wouldn't try anything in a public place, and the last thing she wanted to do was show weakness in front of him, so she crossed her arms and lifted her chin.

Now within reaching distance, he stopped. "Sorry, ma'am. Thought you had something in your ear."

It took all of Sophie's willpower not to respond to that. Had he seen her earbud? Who was this man? And what was she supposed to say to him? Laughing a little, she shook her head. "Thank you, but I'm fine." She knew her body language was loudly contradicting her words, but she was quite shaken after everything that had happened that night.

Instinctively, she scanned the room for Nate, tightening her arms around herself when he didn't immediately come into view.

Suddenly, there was a hand on her arm, and she jerked but couldn't get free. Her distress was plainly visible as she stared at the still smiling not-such-a-gentleman in front of her. He was a lot stronger than he had looked, thanks to the unremarkable suit jacket and wire-rimmed glasses he wore, and suddenly there was a harshness to his eyes that froze her blood in her veins.

"Ford isn't here any more." The whisper was barely audible but terrifying just the same. "If you want to see him again, you'll come with me without causing a scene. Wouldn't want to ruin such a _lovely_ party, would you?"

Sophie felt like her tongue was lodged in her throat as she allowed herself to be led out of the room. She had no idea what he wanted, but he obviously knew who Nate was, and that she was with him. They had come to the party separately, which meant he had done his research. Dread grew in the pit of her stomach as the worst case scenario chilled her to the bone.

Sophie didn't even want to imagine what would happen if she and Nate had been caught by Moreau.

As soon as Sophie was out of view of the party, the man shoved her toward two more, who looked much more like traditional thugs.

"Get the bug out of her ear and smash it."

Sophie winced - he _did_ know about that. The taller of the thugs wrenched her arms behind her back and zip tied them together, while the other jammed his fingers in her ears and roughly dug the earbud out. The light _crunch_ of the device being crushed crunched her hopes as well.

The tall thug dragged her to a van and the other opened the back door. Sophie's heart dropped to her stomach at the sight of Nate, bleeding and unconscious on the floor. The thugs grabbed her shoulders and feet and practically tossed her onto the floor beside him. Just before the door shut her in, she turned and caught a glimpse of diamond hard blue eyes focused on her.

The _slam_ of the door made her jump, but she quickly slid over to Nate. There was little she could do with her hands tied behind her back, but she surveyed him for damage nevertheless. There was a large cut at his hairline, and the blood had run down the side of his face to soak into his jacket. Thankfully, no other injuries were apparent, but that didn't mean he wasn't bruised. The best news was that he was breathing.

After kicking her heels off, Sophie scooted as close as she could to Nate and settled in for the ride.

* * *

Hardison's fingers flew across his keyboard, clearing a path for Parker into this impenetrable stronghold Nate had insisted on breaking into. It wasn't going well at all, and so far, she had barely made it inside, much less searched the place for a safe of any sort. Assuming a safe even existed.

He sighed and took a large gulp of the orange soda. This was easily one of Nate's worst plans ever, and he was stuck running one of their most delicate operations from Lucille. What he wouldn't give to have the wall of monitors back home…

An ear-piercing squeal jolted him to attention, and the bright red NO SIGNAL alert on Nate's earbud's stats sent a jolt of fear through him. Somehow, the earbud had been destroyed. A minute later, another screech assaulted his ears and Sophie's earbud went offline.

"Parker, get out of there!" Hardison didn't care that he was shouting, or that he was freaking out. This was _Moreau_ they were fighting, and with Nate and Sophie officially offline, he couldn't leave Parker out there to get captured as well.

"What was that?" Parker's whisper came through loud and clear.

"We - we lost them, Parker. I'm trying to track them down but… just get out of there, okay? If they get you too, we're finished."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

Hardison pulled up the camera surveillance of the party. It didn't take too long to find what had happened to Nate. Three big, burly guys in black suits approached him, surrounded him, 'escorted' him out, and promptly bludgeoned him in the head. Hardison nearly gagged at the blood smearing on the ground as they dragged Nate's limp body outside.

Hardison glanced over at Sophie, who was engaged in conversation with a long-haired man Hardison didn't recognize. He was rather… touchy, with her, and seemed intent on invading her space and making her uncomfortable. It worked, clearly, and Hardison watched their master grifter slowly fall apart.

Soon, they walked out together. To anyone watching, they would seem perfectly natural, but Hardison could see the tension in Sophie's shoulders and the hesitance in her steps. Once they were out of the building, though, Hardison could't pick up anything on the cameras.

These guys were pros, he was sure of it, because how else would they have caught onto Sophie and Nate so fast? The two hadn't even arrived together. Worse, Hardison had no surveillance of where his teammates had gone once they were outside. The kidnappers had found a camera blind spot and used it well.

Worst of all, the entire time the long-haired man was with Sophie, Hardison hadn't caught enough of his face to run facial recognition. He knew where the cameras were and deliberately avoided them.

Hardison started facial rec on the three who had taken Nate, because they had been much sloppier, before broadening his search. There was no way the other guy had been able to keep his face off camera all night long, and Hardison just had to find one slip up.

…Turns out, he actually _was_ good enough to keep his face completely hidden. The only glimpse Hardison had gotten was a clear reflection in a mirror. Thankfully, with a little doctoring, he was able to run facial rec on the reflection.

The results froze his fingers over the keys.

It was bad enough for them to go up against the army of bodyguards surrounding Ross Farrell. Hardison had wanted to pull out then. Now? Now they were facing Moreau's second in command and top enforcer, Eliot Spencer. The man was legendary for two things: making any and every problem go away, and doing it with vicious efficiency.

They were finished.

How in the world were Hardison and Parker supposed to rescue Nate and Sophie from him, much less pull off the job they had set out to complete?

"Who's that?"

Hardison nearly jumped out of his chair at the unexpected voice behind him. "Parker! Don't do that to me!"

She just stared at him, apparently wanting her question answered.

Sighing, Hardison faced her completely. How could he put this so she didn't have the same pit of fear in her stomach that he had?

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Nate knew was a pounding in his head. The second was that he couldn't move. Without opening his eyes, he did his best to assess the situation.

The worst of the pain was in his head. The crusty feeling on his ear, cheek, and neck probably meant he had been bleeding, but it had dried. There were a few more scattered bruises, but nothing significant. His hands were zip tied to a metal chair, and his feet were similarly restrained. That would have been fine, since Parker had persuaded him to carry a tiny knife in his sleeve for just such an occasion, but both his jacket and shirt were gone.

Satisfied that there was nothing else he could figure out while blind, Nate opened his eyes. Much to his surprise, he was in a clean, well-kept, if empty room that looked like it belonged in a classic country farmhouse. There weren't any windows, but it was well lit. The floor was real hardwood, as was the door, and the walls were covered in a light, unobtrusive wallpaper.

Just over the door, Nate spotted a camera focused right on where he sat. That would hamper his ability to do… well, anything, but the camera might be automated, or whoever was supposed to be watching it might be otherwise occupied. Either way, his interest returned to his chair.

He had hoped to find it loose to move, but unfortunately whoever had taken him had thought that far ahead. All four legs were bolted to the floor. There was no way Nate was moving it.

Just as he was starting to contemplate getting out of the restraints, the door opened. Nate would have sworn he was in another vision, except this time, the face on the long-haired man he had seen so many times was crystal clear. There was no mistaking his identity now.

What he was dying to know now was why this man had been on his mind for weeks. Sure, they had met, worked together even. It had been mutually beneficial but not an experience Nate wanted to repeat. And besides, how would Nate's subconscious know Spencer had grown his hair out since then? Most importantly, why did he feel like he knew Spencer much better than he should have, given the short time they had spent together?

Unfortunately, now was not the time to ponder such mysteries. He had to focus on the problem right in front of him.

"Spencer."

Spencer, now dressed in a flannel shirt and faded jeans instead of the suit, smirked a little as he closed the door behind him and leaned on it. "Told you to stay out of my way, Ford."

Nate cocked his head to the side and nodded. "I didn't know you were in town or I would have. Hard to recognize you with the hair."

The smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "That's the point." Then the smile dropped, and Spencer was all business. "I know what you've been doing, and it's gonna stop."

Nate smiled innocently. "What do you mean?"

Spencer's face darkened. "Don't try to lie to me, Ford. You're no good at it."

"No, no, I just… uh, I think you owe me an explanation. I mean, after what I did for you last time we met, this kind of harsh treatment hardly seems fair. You didn't even try just talking to me, did you? Who says I wouldn't listen?"

"You never listen," he sneered. "And did you forget we agreed we were even after the last job? I owe you nothing. Besides, I didn't start this - you did, when you picked a fight with Moreau. Now it's my job to end it."

That was exactly what Nate had been afraid of. He hated to admit it, but he was well aware of Spencer's methods, and knew the hitter wouldn't hesitate to simply execute whoever posed a threat. So the real question was why Spencer was standing in front of him talking instead of ending him right now.

Straightening a little in his seat, Nate stared straight at Spencer and asked in his most authoritative voice, "What do you want from me? You don't keep people like me alive for no good reason."

Spencer pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "If it were just you, Ford, my problem would have been fixed long ago. But you're the least dangerous of my targets, which makes you the easiest capture." Casually, he approached, and Nate felt himself involuntarily stiffen. "You're going to give me Alec Hardison and Parker."

Nate felt the blood drain from his face. So he knew about Leverage, apparently. But… someone was conspicuously missing. Spencer hadn't mentioned Sophie, so that meant either he had her, or didn't know about her. Nate desperately wanted to know which was the case, but he would never forgive himself if he put her in Spencer's crosshairs because of his own curiosity. "You know I would rather die than give up my people. You're wasting your time."

Spencer nodded slowly, seeming to ponder Nate's words. Finally, he licked his lips and leaned in closer. "How much does Sophie Devereaux mean to you?" Nate closed his eyes and sighed. That was the worst case scenario. Not only did Spencer know about Sophie, but he had her, _and_ he knew Nate had feelings for her. "Two hostages means I can kill one to make a point."

Suddenly, Nate saw a dark room in a faraway place. Parker and Hardison were there, along with Tara and… was that Sterling? As usual, the vision obscured Eliot's identity, but Nate recognized him now. The irony of the situation was not lost on him - in the vision, Eliot was in the position of rescuing the hostages. 'That's my job,' he had said.

Nate opened his eyes to clear the vision, and found himself staring into the coldest glare he had ever seen. He didn't flinch, but didn't say anything either.

Spencer shrugged and backed away. "We both know there are many things worse than death, though."

Before Nate brought himself to say anything, there was a knock on the door. Spencer's nostrils flared as he whirled around to throw the door open. "This better be important." Somehow, that growl felt almost… familiar. Friendly, even. Certainly not menacing like it should have been.

The twenty-something kid who opened the door nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. The camera at the front door broke."

Spencer's jaw worked, but he nodded. "Let Jameson know."

"Yes sir." The kid disappeared, but Nate stared after him long after the door had shut. A camera disabled? That was a very good sign. If Parker and Hardison hadn't found him already, they would soon, and dysfunctional equipment meant guards would have to shift and everything would be just a little off. Even the slightest advantages would be critical at this point.

"Ford." Nate jerked his attention back to the threat in front of him. "I have some issues to deal with right now, so I'll leave you to think. When I get back, I expect you to be quite a bit more cooperative, because I will not be as tolerant."

Nate nodded his head solemnly. He would have some time to think, but after that, he would have to make a very unpleasant decision.

* * *

"I got them!" Hardison didn't need to shout, he knew Parker was right behind him, but he did anyway because his nerves were wearing thin. Their teammates could be dead or dying any minute and he was stuck playing 'Where's Waldo' with traffic cameras. "I mean, it's the last place I would have expected, but there's no denying it."

Hardison pulled up the view on Lucille's big screen so Parker could see it. It had been a pain to try to track the kidnappers' van through the country backroads - in fact, it had been _impossible_ due to the lack of traffic cameras - but it hadn't been too hard for Hardison to find the few scattered buildings along the road. Google maps had helped him locate the building he was looking at now. Once he could see it, it was easy enough to find their wifi network, which was conveniently linked to several surveillance cameras. The black van parked out front was just the icing on the cake. There was no question about it - this was the place.

Parker was just as confused as he was. "It's just a farmhouse."

"No kidding." Why on earth one of the most notorious enforcers in the world pick a - a _farmhouse_ as his base of operations? Hardison would have expected a bunker or something, or maybe a spooky old abandoned warehouse… Though, perhaps that was the point. He would have glossed right over it if he didn't have undeniable proof sitting right in front of him.

"So… Easy peasy?"

Hardison snorted. "I think not. _Eliot Spencer_ , remember? Dude is like _the_ security expert. Or do you think Damien Moreau, bank of evil, is just gonna hire any ol' guy who knocks on his door?"

Parker shrugged. "So what's his weakness?"

Hardison eyed her for a moment, amazed at her blasé attitude, but quickly returned to the task at hand. "Let me see what I can find…" His voice trailed off as he tapped at the keys. A few minutes later, he pulled up the camera feeds on the main monitors.

"Oh man…"

* * *

Nate didn't put up a fight as Spencer hauled him out of the metal chair and practically dragged him out of the room. So far, Spencer hadn't said a word. The stone cold expression on his face warned Nate against pushing him.

Nate barely had time to glance down the hallway before he was pulled into another room. This one, like the last one, was the perfect image of a cute country farmhouse, complete with a lit fireplace in one corner. Nate barely noticed it. Over near the other corner, sitting on her knees with her hands behind her back, was Sophie. She was gagged and unable to speak, but as far as Nate could tell, she hadn't been harmed. He breathed a deep sigh of relief and felt himself relax, despite the iron grip on his arm and the plastic binding his own hands.

Spencer shoved Nate to the floor and stalked toward the back of the room. At that moment, Nate noticed there was another man standing about five feet behind Sophie, one hand on his gun. He leaned against the wall and watched lazily, as if nothing of any note were going on. Sophie, on the other hand, seemed well aware of her danger, if the terror in her eyes was any indication.

The sound of metal scraping against stone seized Nate's attention. Spencer lifted a red hot fire poker out of the coals gathered under the fire and turned to give Nate a look that sent Nate's heart into his stomach. Before Nate could even react, Spencer strode over to Sophie and laid that burning poker across her thighs, right under the hem of her very short minidress.

Nate could tell she did her best not to react to the searing pain she must be experiencing, but her lovely face contorted into a mask of agony and it was only a few seconds before Nate could hear her whimpering.

Fury replaced fear and Nate found himself shouting. "Let her go, you—"

"You know…" Spencer lifted the poker slowly and stared at it, as if he were contemplating the weather. "The ancient Romans favored this technique as well." He meandered over behind Sophie, taking his time.

Nate felt his insides flip as he finally got a good look at the seared, angry red skin at the hem of Sophie's dress. She was breathing heavily, eyes closed, probably trying to control the pain as much as possible. But she was a grifter, and had likely never faced torture before. Nate had the sinking feeling she had absolutely no idea how to manage herself to get through this.

Spencer's soft, nonchalant voice made the hairs stand up on the back of Nate's neck. "They would lay hot pokers across the feet of their victims to get them to spill whatever information the Romans were after." And suddenly, Sophie's barely restrained squeal sliced through Nate's heart. He couldn't see what was happening, but figured Spencer had done exactly what he had said. "The soles of your feet are usually very tender, especially for someone as _delicate_ as Ms. Devereaux, so the heat is especially potent."

"Please, please just - just _stop_." Nate pulled helplessly against his restraints, but there was nothing he could do. "Don't hurt her."

Spencer eyed him for a minute, but Nate's eyes were on Sophie. Tears streamed down her face from tightly clenched eyes, and her chest heaved with sobs. Nate couldn't stand it. "Stop." His voice broke, and it came out just a whisper.

A tiny smirk cracked Spencer's face, and he lifted the poker so it was in Nate's sight again. Nate sighed slightly, even though Sophie didn't react to the cessation of pain. Though, there had probably been enough damage that she was still feeling the heat, even though the source was gone.

Spencer walked back over to the fire, stabbed the now fading poker back under the coals, and pulled out a new one. Making his way back over to Sophie, he stared Nate down, but didn't say anything.

Nate's hands clenched into fists and he jerked against his restraints again, overcome with the fierce desire to throw the jerk into his own fire. Spencer had hurt Sophie just to break him down. Hadn't even given Nate a chance to give in before all this started, didn't even try to talk to him. Just jumped right to burning Sophie, because he _knew_ that was what would get an emotional reaction out of Nate. And what made Nate even more furious was that it had _worked._ No amount of talking, reasoning, or bargaining would get him to give up Hardison and Parker. He knew very well that Sophie would also gladly continue to put up with this if it meant the younger team members were safe. But when Nate was actually faced with the reality of what Spencer would do to Sophie, his emotions were just too strong for him to talk down.

Spencer knew that. Of _course_ he knew that. And just like Nate would have done in the same situation, he had skipped all of the pointless verbal dancing and gone straight to the tactic he knew would work.

Spencer stopped just behind Sophie's shoulder, one hand gripping the poker, the other hand sprawled across her ear, jaw, and neck to hold her head steady. He brought the end of the poker to rest just above Sophie's cheek, and she flinched violently. His hand held her still until she regained control, and then she froze. Nate could see the orange light dancing on her cheek, but thank goodness there was at least a tiny bit of air there.

"'Course, the real pain for a grifter like Devereaux ain't actual pain, is it? Large burn scar on her face would attract all the wrong kinds of attention. Keep her from going undetected when she wants to hide, cause revulsion or pity in potential marks, and most dangerously, give her an identifying mark for the authorities to track." He chuckled softly. "It would cripple her ability to grift." His deadly calm eyes twinkled menacingly. "It's about the worst possible outcome for someone as restless as she is."

Nate felt the blood drain from his face. "You… you…" He wanted to curse Spencer out, but could barely form a coherent thought with the poker hovering over Sophie's face. "You _monster._ "

He chuckled softly. "Never heard that before."

Nate just glared harder, despite the almost palpable release in tension thanks to Spencer's sarcastic humor. Spencer may think it was funny to joke about horrifically scarring people for his own benefit, but Nate was certainly not amused, and Sophie looked downright terrified. Her face was so pale that Nate wouldn't have been surprised if she passed out.

In response to Nate's silence, Spencer's demeanor sobered again. "You know what I want."

Five words that forced Nate to decide which team members he would put at the mercy of this man. While he desperately wanted to do the pragmatic thing and sacrifice Sophie so that Hardison and Parker could escape, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He could only hope Hardison managed to tap into the cameras mounted in every room and realize what was going on before Spencer managed to track down Hardison and Parker.

"We were staying at the Golden Sunset hotel downtown, room #317. Lots of people at the front entrance, though, so you'd have to go in through the side door."

Spencer regarded him quietly for a moment, before nodding slightly and allowing the burning poker to fall away from Sophie's face. "Good." With a nod to the man in the corner behind him, who hadn't moved the entire time, Spencer tossed the poker back toward the fire and strode out of the room. Nate could hear him calling down the hall, "Jameson! I want two thirds of the men surrounding that hotel. Parker especially knows how to slip away, I don't want this messed up…"

As soon as his voice faded down the hall, Nate stumbled to his feet and practically threw himself at Sophie. "How are you doing?" He murmured, taking in the fiery marks on her thighs and feet.

The guard grabbed his shoulder and shoved him away. "Don't touch her."

Sophie glanced up at him and he suddenly remembered she couldn't answer him. The pain and determination in her eyes, though, told him everything he needed to know. Nate could tell she was hurting more than she let on, but he certainly admired her for being so brave in the face of their worst nightmare.

Nate scooted as close as he dared, hoping to offer whatever comfort he could. Eyeing the camera above, he whispered, "I just hope Hardison and Parker make it out okay."

* * *

TBC

A/N: Nate's vision comes from #212, "The Zanzibar Marketplace Job," when Nate and Maggie have been kidnapped and Eliot is in charge of getting them back.


	3. Chapter 3

Hardison reacted slowly to the sight of Spencer gathering his forces. After everything he had just watched, he was honestly surprised to be feeling nothing. The numbness was definitely preferable to… whatever strong emotion he would have expected, but still. He was just glad he had had the sense to send Parker away before anything really bad happened.

Now, though, they had to move. They weren't in the hotel room because Hardison had decided it would be safer for them to be in a vehicle. That instinct turned out to be right. Instead, they needed to take advantage of the thinning of the guards to try to get Nate and Sophie out. When Spencer didn't find him and Parker, he would no doubt take it out on the team members in his clutches, and Hardison didn't think he could stand another round of that.

Besides, Nate - always the mastermind - had managed to slip him and Parker a clue.

Hardison touched his earbud to turn it on. "Parker, come back to the van. We've gotta get movin', now."

Just a few seconds later, Parker popped in. "What happened?"

He wasn't about to recount the details for her, so he skipped to the important part. "Okay, so you know how the cameras are pretty well spread around the farmhouse?"

"Yeah, I mapped those out an hour ago. And memorized the blueprints. What have you been doing?"

"… _Anyway_ , those aren't going to be a problem 'cause I can spoof 'em easily. The problem here is the large number of guards, which is about to drop significantly. Plus, a camera near the front is down, so they're gonna be concentrated there. And Nate said we need to go in through the side entrance."

Parker whipped out their map, now wrinkled from her pocket. Immediately, she located the entrance Nate had indicated. "It's not a bad plan, actually. They're just a couple of halls and two rooms down. We'd be in and out in three minutes, no problem."

" _If_ we don't run into any thugs on the way. It's like Pac Man - one ghost and it's over. Go straight to jail, do not pass go kind of trouble. This has got to be perfect, or we're all done for."

Parker smiled mischievously. "So we make it perfect. Nate and Sophie are in there, so failure isn't an option. Come on - we can do this."

She looked at him with such trust and determination that he felt his own confidence lift a little. "All right, girl. Let's make this happen."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Parker was at the house and the van was parked within five minutes of walking distance from the farmhouse. Parker didn't want to get any closer and risk being spotted, but Hardison had argued Sophie was in no condition to run too far. Her high heels seemed to have disappeared, so she would be running barefoot with those horrible burns on her feet. He neglected to mention that little detail, though. Let Parker focus on the task at hand for now.

"Alright, Parker, you ready?"

"Go."

Hardison looped the cameras, giving her a good six minutes to work her magic. It was twice the amount of time she had anticipated, so he felt good about it, but he watched the monitors like a hawk just in case. If a guard happened to meander her way, Hardison needed to be able to warn her immediately.

He hated this. He _hated_ this. But it was the best they could do, so he just prayed that by some miracle they would all make it out alive. Even if they had to take a beating to make that happen, Hardison would count it a win.

If they ended up free and breathing, they were luckier than 95% of Spencer's victims.

Parker crept up to the side of the farmhouse, moving slowly and carefully to keep from being seen. The side door was just ahead, and that was where Nate had said to go, but her gut told her otherwise. Her instincts warned her to go in through a window or somewhere less… obvious. But maybe Nate was trying to warn her that the windows were locked down, or bulletproof glass, or maybe not meant to open at all. This _was_ a safehouse, after all. If Spencer had thought it was secure enough to hold some of the greatest thieves in the world, it probably was. The doors were likely the only way in.

Using the shrubbery to her advantage, Parker finally made it to the side of the house. "Am I clear?" she whispered into her comm.

" _You're all clear."_

Without bothering to reply, she picked the lock on the door and slipped in, closing it silently behind her. Parker found herself in a well-lit, homey hallway. Just ahead, it let out into what appeared to be a living room. A couple of couches were set up haphazardly and trash was all over the floor. More disturbing were the various ammo clips and unsheathed knives lying around on the coffee table and the bar that blocked off what she guessed was a kitchen.

The house might be nice, but it was obvious the people in it weren't.

With one last look to make sure nobody was within sight, Parker darted across the living room and into another hallway. This one was longer than the last one. A closed door sat just ahead, but then the hallway turned. It would be a bad idea to round that corner without knowing it was empty, so she risked a tiny whisper. "Empty?"

" _You're good, girl. Nobody's there. The hallway will turn one more time, and then you need to go in the first door on the left."_

Parker nodded, trusting Hardison could see her, and padded silently down the hall. Just like he said, she came upon another turn, but she didn't stop this time. He would have told her if someone were there.

Just as she rounded the corner, Hardison squeaked in her ear. _"Parker, I can't see you…"_

Parker gasped as she ran right into Eliot Spencer. He caught her easily, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders. She struggled with all her might, kicking at him and wriggling and even trying to slam her head into his, but she was small and his grip was too tight.

"Settle." The soft rumble in her ears sent a shiver down her spine. "And tell your hacker if he isn't here in ten minutes, I'm going to break every bone in your body, starting with those fingers. Can't very well pick locks with mangled hands, can you?"

Parker felt the blood drain from her face. Hardison stammered incoherently in her ear, but she knew he had heard. Spencer had made sure her earbud picked up his voice.

She did her best to glare defiantly at Spencer, and he gave a slight smile. Suddenly very uncomfortable with their proximity, she started struggling again. He released his grip on her shoulders, but wrapped her wrists in an iron grip and twisted them roughly behind her back. Parker wouldn't have been too worried, after all, she was very good at escaping handcuffs, but it seemed he knew her better than she thought.

Instead of the cold metal of cuffs or even the easy plastic of zip ties, she felt the scratchy twine of rope. _Rope._ Who used rope any more? He wound it around her arms about twenty times, binding them so tightly she could barely move. Once it was all tied off, he opened the door Hardison had said contained their teammates and thrust her inside.

"Kevin, search her for blades and picks. She gets out, you take her place."

A goon stepped out from behind Nate and Sophie and took Parker from Spencer. She felt numb all over as his much less gentle hands wrapped around her arms and began searching her sleeves for the concealed tools, which she of course had. The fact that she got _caught_ only rubbed salt in the gaping wound in her soul - escape was virtually impossible at this point.

She, Nate, and Sophie were helpless against Spencer now, and Hardison was walking right into the same fate… for her.

* * *

When the door opened and Nate saw Spencer dragging Parker into the room, his heart sank. Now that Spencer had all four of them, there was nothing to keep him from killing them - probably very painfully, if his past record was anything to go by. Nate only hoped that Hardison would take his time getting there so Nate would have a chance to talk Spencer out of whatever he had in mind.

"You didn't actually want me to tell you where Hardison and Parker were, did you?"

Spencer smiled a little, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, it was a good plan, actually. Delay until they showed up to rescue us, then trap them here. Saved you a lot of trouble trying to track them down, right? Parker especially."

Spencer continued to watch him with a mildly amused expression, but didn't seem inclined to fill in the blanks.

Nate kept going. "Probably threw me off on purpose, yeah? Made me think you were going after them when what you were really doing was waiting for me to tell them how to find us. Did you even send men to the hotel?"

Finally, Spencer responded. "Yeah, I did. If, by some chance, they didn't come to rescue you, I figured I could at least find some clues or security footage of them there."

"How did you know I wasn't lying, sending you on a wild goose chase? Did you trust me?"

One eyebrow arched with his smirk. "Of course. You're an honest man." The irony in his voice was unmistakable, and suddenly the room blurred into another vision. A different time and place, this one quite familiar. It was right after that very first mission - the one that brought him into contact with Hardison and Parker - and he was handcuffed to a hospital bed after an explosion, with just ten minutes to get his teammates out of the building before they were all hauled away by the cops.

Only in the vision, Spencer was there with them. He was there, not as an enemy, but as an ally. And he trusted Nate. The ironic tone wouldn't seem to imply that, though, and Nate wouldn't have believed it if he didn't also see scene after scene of Spencer fighting off goons, pulling Hardison out of the exploding warehouse, and helping people.

The farmhouse faded back into focus and Nate found himself staring into the suspicious eyes of his captor. Spencer - no, _Eliot_ , because in Nate's visions he was someone Nate knew and cared about - _trusted_ Nate. Finally, Nate knew how to get his team out of this mess.

"I have a proposition for you, Eliot."

Eliot recoiled from the use of his first name, and the shock was evident on his face. Quickly, it shifted to anger and coldness. "I have no reason to listen to you."

"Look, you know me well enough to know I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure my team makes it out of this alive. But you also know I'll be straightforward with you, so believe me when I say I'll make it worth your while."

Eliot crossed his arms and studied Nate for a minute before finally nodding his assent. "You have until Hardison shows up."

Nate didn't waste any time. Thanks to the many visions over the last few weeks, he knew exactly what would get Eliot's attention. "He's hurting kids." Eliot's eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, but Nate didn't miss it. When Sophie stiffened beside him, he knew she had spotted it as well. He was definitely on the right track. "More specifically, he's financing people that are hurting kids, using Moreau's money. I really don't hope I have to spell out any more than that."

"Moreau doesn't care if his lieutenants take outside work." Eliot's nonchalant tone wasn't quite convincing, and the blatant misdirect only confirmed Nate's guess.

"I'm sure he doesn't, but this isn't about Moreau. Your man Farrell is the worst kind of scum, and our plan came _this_ close to opening him up to prosecution by the authorities. I'm not picky about who takes Farrell down, as long as he can't hurt people anymore. If you'll hear me out, I know a way to get rid of him that will greatly benefit you and not harm Moreau at all."

"I think this is another one of your cons."

Nate shrugged. "Well, I did say I was going to make this worth your while. I have to make it as appealing as possible or it won't work. And it can't hurt you to listen, can it? You can think it over once you've heard my offer."

Eliot made a big show of looking at his watch and then raised his eyebrows at Nate. "Tell you what. If your hacker shows up before I start breaking Parker's fingers, I might not be too occupied to listen to you. If I don't like what you say, I'll cut your tongue out before I kill you. Got it?"

Nate's breath caught in his throat, but he nodded. It was probably the best he was going to get - but what was it that made this version of Eliot so cruel? Nate felt like he had known Eliot for years - the other Eliot, the one that was grouchy but softhearted and dark but ultimately good. Why was his protector now his most dangerous threat? And most importantly of all, what could he do about it?

Suddenly, the door to the room flew open and Hardison appeared, flanked by two of Eliot's men but so far not restrained. His dark eyes were darker than Nate had ever seen them, and he looked for all the world ready to kill Eliot where he stood. Unfortunately, if he were capable of such a feat, they wouldn't be in this position.

Eliot smirked a little. "Would you look at that. He arrived _just_ in time and not a minute earlier." A jerk of his head sent his men out of the room. The door closed behind them, leaving Eliot alone with the four Leverage members.

Nate immediately got to business. "Here's the plan for taking down Farrell. At the moment, he's in possession of $30 million of his own money and $40 million of Moreau's money. If he were to, say, spend all of that on a company that turns out to be a fake, how do you think Moreau would respond?"

Eliot seemed to listening carefully, sober consideration banishing the earlier cocky confidence.

Encouraged, Nate kept going. "And if, during your very _uneventful_ time here, you were to stumble across this betrayal… Moreau would be very happy with you, yeah?"

Eliot stayed silent for another minute, staring but not seeing anything. Finally, he looked at Nate. "What happens to the money?"

$70 million would fund every mission of mercy the Leverage crew could imagine, and Nate hated to see it go. On the other hand, if they were dead, that money wouldn't do anyone any good. "We'll split it five ways."

"I want half."

Parker's eyes shot wide open and she shook her head. "All our pretty money!"

"Done." Nate worried about what Spencer could do with $35 million, but there wasn't much he could do at this point. It was a miracle Eliot was listening to him at all. He wan't going to jeopardize his team on behalf of money, no matter how much Parker loved the stuff. "Here's how this is going to work…"

* * *

TBC

A/N: Nate's vision comes from the very first episode, when they're in the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

Parker chafed at her restrictions. At the moment, she was the only member of Leverage who wasn't helping with the con. On Hardison's screen, Nate floated around the office building like he owned it. Sophie paced off in a remote hallway, waiting for Hardison's signal that the mark had arrived. Parker could see her wince with every step, but didn't know why. Maybe Sophie had gotten new shoes and they hurt her feet? Hardison, as usual, sat at his computer, but this time he was set up at an ornate, hand-carved wooden desk in the farmhouse with an Eliot hovering over his shoulder.

And Parker, much to her chagrin, was thoroughly attached to a chair placed about ten feet behind Hardison. Sure, she had a decent view of what was going on, but Sophie was using Parker's earbud to talk to Hardison, so Parker only heard half of the conversation. Worst of all, though, was the fact that she could barely move. Spencer had insisted on keeping at least one hostage to make sure Nate went through with his promise. No one had been happy about it, but Parker least of all, because really there were _two_ hostages - both her _and_ Hardison!

Spencer had said something about her disappearing and being wary about what Hardison could do with a computer without a reason to keep up his end of the deal, but it was the principle that frustrated Parker so much. She had never been a prisoner until now, and she had no intention of being a damsel in distress!

Suddenly, Hardison's voice took her mind off of her captivity. "Mark's on his way, Sophie. Get ready."

Spencer leaned in and pointed at the screen, speaking loudly into Hardison's ear. "If you come on too strong, he's gonna know something's up—"

Hardison jerked away and glared at the hitter. "They pick up; you don't have to yell."

Spencer just rolled his eyes and shifted backward.

Parker squirmed to get a better view of what was happening on Hardison's screen, but Spencer was now blocking most of it. After a minute or so of silence, Hardison leaned closer to the screen and said, "Nate's moving now, Sophie. Guide the mark down the hallway to your right and you'll run right into him."

Spencer shook his head and reached over Hardison's shoulder to point at the screen. "Stop, stop. Nobody goes down that hall. He'd believe it more if Ford were coming out of that office—"

"Excuse you - who put you in charge?"

Spencer turned to stare at Hardison deliberately. They just kept staring and staring and _staring_ and finally Parker got fed up with it. "Guys! What's happening?!"

They both just kind of glanced at her. Hardison immediately got back to his work, but did take the time to answer her. "Sophie's _this_ close to hooking the mark. And Nate's gonna be in that hallway because _somebody_ crunched our earbuds so he doesn't have communication." He sent a meaningful glance toward Spencer, who ignored him.

After another minute, Spencer reached for the screen again and Hardison slapped his hand away. "Do you mind? Personal space. Alright, Sophie, take the $65 million. That's good enough."

Parker stiffened in her seat and renewed her efforts to get eyes on the screen. Failing that, she whined at Hardison again. "Did she do it? Did we get our money?"

"Yeah, babe, we got 'im. He's on the hook. Just have to wait for the wire transfer to go through and we are back in business!" Something must have happened that Parker didn't see, because suddenly Spencer gave a loud clap and Hardison whooped gleefully. "Oh yeah, age of the geek, baby! High five for morale!" And Parker almost didn't believe her eyes when the hitter seemed to forget himself and gave the hacker a solid high five.

Hardison leapt out of his seat and hugged Parker, bound as she was. "You're gonna let her go now, right? Now that Nate's plan worked?"

Almost immediately, Spencer settled back into the cool, detached persona. "Once I have everything Ford promised."

Parker felt Hardison's hand tighten around hers and noticed it was trembling. For all the confidence he had shown while running the con from his computer screen, Parker could finally feel the terror running through his body. If anything, Hardison's fear made her even more proud of him. It was one thing to be fearless, and another to get the job done with a literal angel of death breathing down your neck while you do it. Parker squeezed Hardison's hand tightly.

Hardison lifted his chin and his voice came out surprisingly steadily. "Why didn't I see you on the cameras?"

Spencer shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know how any of that stuff works. Something about looping the feed, but all I cared about was _that_ it worked, not _how_."

Parker watched Hardison's lips flatten into a thin line. "I shoulda guessed." He released her hand and pulled a check book out of his pocket, scribbling on it haphazardly. Once it was done, he tore it out and handed it to Spencer. One last glance at Parker, and Spencer was gone.

The tension in the room was suddenly dissipated and Hardison was at her side in an instant, picking at her restraints with far more enthusiasm than care.

"Breathe, Hardison." She held her voice steady, knowing that it would help him calm down. "Work at them carefully and they'll obey you..."

* * *

Back in his apartment, Nate settled into a chair at the table with a full bottle of whiskey in his hand. After the ordeal from the last few days, he was all too happy to lose himself in drink. He wasn't the only one winding down, either.

In the living room, _The Sound of Music_ played on the TV, even though nobody was awake to see it. Sophie had asked for it, and no one had the heart to deny her after what she had gone through. Parker had helped Nate treat the burns, but they still looked extremely painful. Now that she was safe and wrapped in the coziest blankets Nate owned, it hadn't taken Sophie more than ten minutes to fall asleep.

The poor thief had allowed Sophie to sleep in her lap. Unwilling to get up and wake Sophie, Parker had been trapped on the couch and unable to indulge her too-tired-to-sleep energy, so half an hour after Sophie, she melted into the cushions as well.

Hardison lasted a solid hour before succumbing to his exhaustion. Nate had no idea what the hacker had been doing, but it wasn't watching the movie. He had spent the entire night tapping at his computer until he finally passed out with his fingers still on the keyboard. A bowl of popcorn, Parker's contribution to the relax effort, had spilled by Hardison's feet. Nate just knew it would take a week to clean up all those kernels, but he wasn't really in the mood to be frustrated by the little things.

He had something much bigger to think about now.

They had survived their first brush with Moreau's enforcer, but only by the skin of their teeth. Nate was responsible for keeping his team safe, but if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that his own recklessness had led him to endanger them far beyond what any of them could handle. He knew he had a tendency to go after the best possibilities and ignore the possibility of bad consequences, but with this whole Italian business, he was even more out of control than normal. Sophie tried to keep him on track, but there just wasn't enough _punch_ to it. He knew she would stick by him, so her threats had no bite.

What he needed was someone less attached and more down-to-earth, someone who could be trusted to keep the team safe even when Nate went after ambitious and dangerous targets.

Thankfully, he had been given another chance to make it right. Their con against Farrell had worked in the end, but even the victory stung with a grim reminder of what could - and, honestly, _should_ \- have happened.

Farrell had disappeared, as Nate had expected. What he had _not_ expected was for the police to find him that night back in his own bed, his body mutilated almost beyond recognition. The scariest thing, though, was that the medical examiner believed Farrell had been _alive_ for the entirety of the morbid procedure.

While Nate had felt very guilty for turning Farrell over to be brutalized like that, he felt even more sick that it could have been Parker, or Hardison, or - heaven forbid! - _Sophie_ lying there, abandoned and abused.

All because of him.

All because of Moreau.

All because of _Eliot Spencer._

And Nate knew who they needed to take down next, because only one man was now standing between him and Moreau.

With one last glance toward his sleeping teammates, Nate lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips and drank deeply. Visions or no visions, Nate was going to have to deal with Eliot Spencer.

* * *

Eliot sank heavily onto the hotel bed. His feet throbbed and he was exhausted. Moreau had ordered him to make an example of Farrell, and Eliot had done just that. It would definitely send a message to Moreau's other subordinates: be very careful with the boss' money or you may end up like this. More importantly, it would send a message to Nate Ford. It was Eliot's way of saying, "This is what I could have done to your team. If you get in my way again, this is what I _will_ do to your team."

His eyes wandered over to the nightstand, which held an opened envelope and a check. Half of him was afraid it might bounce, or maybe the hacker would keep it from going through. The other half knew Ford was an honest man. Besides, he didn't really think Ford would be stupid enough to purposefully anger him by cheating him out of his money.

No, what occupied his mind right now was how that check changed everything. He lifted it gently, almost as if it were glass. For perhaps the twentieth time, he read the numbers, just trying to convince himself they were actually real.

$32,761,349.00.

 _$32,761,349.00._

He really didn't believe what his eyes were telling him. If this indeed went through and he actually received over _$32 million_ , his entire life would be radically different. He wouldn't have to work another day in his life if he didn't want to. Of course, he _did_ want to because he enjoyed his work, but it would mean he could choose pretty much any job he wanted, no matter what the pay was. Heck, he could _do_ whatever he wanted, with no thought of money whatsoever.

It would allow him to seriously reevaluate what he wanted to be doing and why.

Yeah, life was going to change very soon. The conflict between Ford and Moreau was coming to a head, and Eliot could only imagine what kind of fallout there would be. But he had been through worse before, and he knew how to take care of himself.

As long as he played his cards right, he should be able to come out on top no matter what happened.

* * *

The End

A/N: Keep an eye out for the upcoming sequel, _The Deserter_!


End file.
